


Wild magic

by redsnake05



Category: Harry Potter - Rowling
Genre: Future Fic, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-01-23
Updated: 2010-01-23
Packaged: 2017-10-09 02:50:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,880
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/82231
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/redsnake05/pseuds/redsnake05
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Future fic, when things don't fall neatly into place after the war. Ron has a place he calls home, and he's happy there. Then Neville is sent to him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Wild magic

Ron Weasley straightened up and rubbed the back of one dirty arm over his sweating forehead before mopping the rest of it with the hem of a t-shirt as grubby as the arm. He stretched his arms high and hefted his spade again. Wild magic projects were hot, smelly, exhausting, dirty and unpredictable, but they were not boring. Just this morning he'd been planning on taking a little stroll to the edge of the reserve to check the wards and the planting on the northern slope of the mountain, coming back via the rododendrons to check on the injured Speckled Mountain Cat that was lairing there. Then a firecall from headquarters had told him a herbologist on sabbatical was coming to work in the nursery, and Ron was diverted to digging a new long drop. The old one was getting a bit rank, and probably not the best first impression for a new visitor, even if it was only used in plumbing emergencies. He might have time to at least visit the injured mountain cat, if the visitor felt up to stretching their legs, after he'd removed the risk of death by stinky long drop from the list of hazards at the reserve.

Ron heaved out the last few spadefuls of earth and levitated himself out of the hole. He'd never quite understood the department's insistence on digging their long drops by hand, but didn't really mind the exercise. He wrinkled his nose. It was the filling in of the old one that really rankled. He silently hoped that the herbologist wouldn't want to dig it up again for making compost. At least, not until it had settled for a few weeks. Sighing again, and trying to breathe through his mouth, Ron shovelled the dirt down the hole.

Just as he smoothed the last few spadesful onto the newly filled hole, a shout from the office warned him that the new herbologist had arrived. Ron grinned. If there was one thing about wild magic projects that was a bit boring, it was the quiet. He was up here with just two young couples for company, and they usually retired to bed early. A new face would be very welcome. He hurried towards the office, hoping that the herbologist liked to play chess and talk about quidditch.

The man talking to Sophie in the office was a surprise. She looked up and shrieked faintly at the dirt dropping onto the floor. Neither man noticed, striding forward instead to grab each other in a fearsome hug.

"Neville!" exclaimed Ron, breaking free at last and holding him away. "My god, you're a sight for sore eyes."

"I wish I could say the same, Ron. You stink. And you're filthy. You could have cleaned up before you mauled me."

Ron clapped Neville on the back and laughed. Sophie rolled her eyes and directed her wand at the dirt on the floor. Ron smiled at her. "So, I take it you've already met Sophie. Her wife Calliope is around somewhere. God only knows where the other two – Basanti and Naresh – are."

"Calliope went to check the lake temperature in the thermal area. Basanti and Naresh are in the bird sanctuary. I've been tidying up the greenhouse." Sophie interpolated.

"Good. I might head up to the thermal area later for a bath. Come on, I'll show you where you'll be sleeping."

Ron led the way across the courtyard to another door. Pausing at it, he gestured around the U-shaped space. "This is our main living and working space. Office," he pointed back where they had come from, then briskly around the other areas, "storeroom, kitchen and recreation space, Basanti and Naresh's rooms, the bathroom the others share, Calliope and Sophie's rooms, our bathroom, and these are the rooms we'll be sharing."

He opened the door as he spoke and ushered Neville inside. It was simple – a small living area for getting away from the recreation area if need be, and two bedrooms. A door led through to the shared bathroom.

"That's your room there. The bathroom's pretty simple. It gets pretty cold here at night, and you'll still need a coat and hat during the day, but we don't often get snow down here. Any questions?"

Neville looked like his head was swimming. "Just, I can't believe it's you."

Ron's smile was infectious. "Believe it. You're going to be stuck with me for six months. Did no one tell you this was my project?"

"No, they just said I was going to the Bhutan-Nepal project. I didn't know it was yours."

"Team leader, that's me. In charge of two impertinent girls, a dopy pair of newlyweds and countless hectares of the most gorgeous country in the world. And now a herbologist." Ron's voice was light and happy as he continued, "My first order, Mr Herbologist, is to change into something more comfortable." Ron saw Neville looking slightly alarmed and realised what he had said. "No, not that sort of more comfortable! We'l go and see an injured mountain cat and you can tell me all about your project."

Looking relieved, Neville laughed. "If I can edge a word in!" he said.

Ron laughed too. "It's the fun of having someone new to talk to," he said. "You get changed and I'll get a bit cleaner and we'll go for a stroll."

….

Ron pelted Neville with eager questions as they walked. Neville smiled and answered as best he could. Ron had been back for a holiday only a year ago, so he was well versed on Weasley news, but Neville told him all about everyone else. Eventually, Ron asked about Tricia.

"She left me. About a year ago," Neville said, lowering his eyes.

"What?" exploded Ron.

"She, ah, found out about something."

"What?" asked Ron again, thoroughly confused.

"She found out I was gay," explained Neville quickly.

"So that explains why they sent you to me!" said Ron, apparently quite cheerful with the news. "That's how I ended up with Sophie and Calliope. Head Office thought we could be happily queer together."

"What about the others?" asked Neville.

Ron shrugged. "I think they were quizzed on how open-minded they were before they were sent here," he answered. "It hasn't been a problem."

"You're taking this well," ventured Neville.

"What? Well, I'm hardly going to be disapproving of you being gay, now am I? How hypocritical would that be?"

"Well, I wasn't exactly supportive-"

"I know. Don't worry about it. It was five years ago, Neville. I've had some time to get used to it."

"I'm sorry."

Ron stopped Neville and looked him in the eye. "Neville, mate, I have seriously come to terms with it all. I'm not running away or anything, and I'm not angry with you. Now, how did she find out?"

"I fell in love with someone."

"Good, good. But where is he?"

"Oh, he didn't fall in love with me."

"But she still found out?"

"I couldn't keep it to myself. I might have, um, said his name. At an inappropriate moment."

Ron roared with laughter, clapping Neville on the back. "And who is your adonis?"

"Um, I'd rather not say."

"Spoilsport! It must have been Snape."

"Yuck no!" Neville sighed, knowing Ron would not give up. "It was Harry."

The laughter in Ron's eyes died, but his hand didn't move from Neville's shoulder. "Yes, well. We all fall a bit in love with Harry eventually," he said. Gripping Neville's shoulder tightly one more time, Ron smiled faintly and turned back to the track. "We've still got a ways to go to the lair, but you should have your wand ready from now on, just in case."

&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;

Neville met the others at dinner. Basanti and Naresh turned out to be a very young couple, just married. They had just graduated from school further south, and were thinking of careers in conservation in India. Sophie, whom he had met in the office, had been working as a British Ministry receptionwitch. Calliope, who turned out to be a tall and beautiful witch, had recently finished her apprenticeship as a woodwright. They were here because Sophie wanted to see if she would enjoy wild magic before studying it. Ron smiled at them all impartially and with a faintly avuncular air, though he was only a few years older. Neville had to hide his grin a few times as he saw how Ron acted as the father of the family. Ron suggested that they retire to their rooms with a bottle of local brandy and Neville agreed.

"You've quite the little family, Ron," he commented as Ron poured him the first glass.

"Haven't I just?" grinned Ron. Passing Neville his drink and placing the bottle between them, Ron slid into his chair. "Head office does try to match assignments to people. They're here for a year; sometimes couples, like these two, sometimes friends, sometimes just random strangers. Their arrival is staggered so one couple leaves six months after the first couple arrives. Sometimes they stay for two years."

"Have they ever got it wrong?"

"Hell, yeah!" snorted Ron. "I've been here for three years now, and the second year I was here I had a couple that fought all the time. It was terrible. The rest of us were all singletons, and I think the other two were scarred for life. I had to request they were transferred in the end."

"That sounds like me and Tricia."

"No moping! We're going to drink this fine local brandy-" he took a cautious sip and shuddered as it ran down to his belly, "-which apparently is distilled out of live coals, and talk about nothing so serious."

Neville took a small sip of his brandy. "Oh god, I think my lips are going to fall off!" he exclaimed before gulping a little more. "I certainly won't be able to talk about anything serious. I doubt I'll be able to talk at all."

….

Over the next few days Neville learned a lot about the project, as it was called, and a lot about Ron Weasley. They hadn't spent much time together since they had finished school, and Neville had forgotten how utterly surly Ron was in the morning. Calliope had rolled her eyes and shoved a coffee into his hands, and Naresh had simply pushed the plate of rolls in his direction. Suitably fed and filled with caffeine, Ron had emerged from his bear impersonation and quite cheerfully inquired if everyone had their assignments for the day. Basanti had sighed in a much put upon fashion and told him that, as with every morning, they had checked the rosters he so kindly provided in the office. Ron had beamed and asked who had been rostered on to look after Neville.

Neville ended up inspecting the greenhouses with Sophie, making lists of all the equipment he would need and checking the lists of all the plants reputed to grow in the area. Sophie was a keen herbologist herself, and Neville was sure he could rely on her to help with searching out specimens, cultivating them, and testing their properties.

Later, he learned how to fill out the endless requisition forms, tutored by a swearing Ron, who seemed to regard filling them in as a personal challenge. Neville had learned that Ron's vocabulary had widened to include some new and startling curses. He'd seen Ron tending to a sick falcon, mend a broken piece of equipment, and cast rabbit-proof wards around new trees. He'd seen Ron swimming in the thermal pools, water dripping down his nude body, arms raised to the sky.

Neville splashed around in the agreeably warm water and tried to avert his eyes. He had to live with the man, and ogling him was not going to make for a comfortable six months.

&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;

Ron jumped out of the pool and dried himself briskly, anxious to get a layer of clothes between himself and the chilly wind. It got cold here so quickly in the late afternoons. He called to Neville and watched as the other man clambered out of the water and immediately shivered. Ron threw him a towel and searched for his clothes. He was pretty sure he'd caught Neville checking him out earlier. Smirking to himself, Ron pulled his singlet, shirt and jersey on in one move, simultaneously checking Neville out as he dragged the towel quickly all over his body. Neville had strong hands and arms, a slightly stocky body and beautiful legs and feet. Ron sighed as Neville encased them in warm socks. Well, if Neville was checking him out, Ron would have to give him lots of opportunities. It was only fair, after all. Ron had to take his ogling where he could find it.

&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;

Neville was going crazy. Yes, the weather was getting warmer, but surely not warm enough for Ron to suddenly decide that all manual labour had to be done shirtless. And it was definitely not warm enough to parade back from the bathroom draped only in a minute towel round the hips. Neville scolded himself for noticing how perky Ron's nipples were in the chill morning air. Surely they didn't have to go swimming in the thermal pools quite so often, even if it was enjoyable, and, if they did, did Ron really have to drop his clothes so far from the water and saunter so slowly towards it?

Neville had caught himself looking at Ron a thousand times. His mind would suddenly jerk out of its pleasurable haze and he'd realise he'd been watching a drop of water from Ron's wet hair snake down his back, running an obstacle course of freckles, before subsiding into the towel that barely covered Ron's arse. Or he'd suddenly realise he'd been watching Ron licking, nibbling and sucking the end of his quill, dragging it into his mouth and tickling it gently over his lips before snaking his tongue out again to swirl around the bedraggled feathers. Naresh had nudged him gently one evening as Ron virtually molested a chess piece during a game with Basanti. Neville had blushed rosily, but who could resist Ron's clever fingers running over and around the little knight.

Neville reminded himself sternly in the morning that he'd been here a month and he only had five months to go. He'd handle Ron. He blushed, even though he was alone. He was not going to think of handling Ron! Too late. He sighed and slipped his hand into his pyjama bottoms, palming his stiffening cock. Handling Ron. Neville had seen Ron naked now, and he looked appetising. With all the showing off Ron had been doing, Neville knew that Ron's freckles extended over his shoulders like a cloud. The little mat of red hair on his chest looked like the perfect place to curl up for a nap and play hide and seek with his nipples. Ron's nipples deserved a fantasy all to themselves. Beautifully brown, they were perky on the least provocation and Neville just knew that they would be delightfully responsive. He imagined Ron pressed underneath him, growling incomprehensibly as Neville licked and sucked each nipple in turn. Torturing it with his teeth and tongue. Abandoning himself to his fantasy, Neville slid his hand faster over his cock, fumbling for his wand and conjuring a dollop of lube so that he could pretend better that it was Ron's mouth wrapped around it. He imagined that Ron was on his knees in front of him as Neville fucked his face, telling him that he'd finally found a way to keep him quiet. Neville imagined Ron's face grinning up at him and came with a strangled groan.

….

Ron smirked to himself as he strolled up towards the office from the animal pens. He'd noticed Neville looking at him as he strolled around in a very small towel or worked shirtless. Sure, it was a bit cold, but Ron thought it was definitely worth it. Suddenly a hand shot out of the greenery and dragged him behind a tree. He reached for his wand, only to find two wands already in his face. He removed his hand from his holster slowly. Calliope smiled her approval at his prudence, while Sophie just glared at him.

"So, you're secret Death Eaters, then, intent on finally finishing me off after old Tom couldn't all those years ago," he said, in a voice which didn't shake too much. Calliope looked confused, but Sophie merely looked impatient.

"Don't be ridiculous, Ron. We're here to talk about Neville."

"At wandpoint?"

"You need to be made to be quiet and stand still long enough to actually listen."

Ron relaxed slightly as he realised that he wasn't going to be killed – at least, not right now. "Go on, then," he invited.

"We want to know your intentions towards Neville," hissed Sophie.

"Not really any of your business," replied Ron cheerfully. He flinched as a well-placed stinging hex caught him on the arm.

"We all have to live here, it is our business, and if you don't have serious intentions, then you can stop parading yourself round like a lollipop and then not letting him have a lick," added Calliope.

Ron's face lost a lot of its good humour, but before he could speak he was hit with a barrage of hexes that left him tied to a tree and without his wand. "What?" he squawked.

"Don't mess with us, Weasley," threatened Sophie. "I really like Neville, and you need to make up your mind what you're going to do about it. Whatever you decide, you will stop torturing the man, or this afternoon will be just a taster of what we'll do to you."

Calliope took up the tale; "Basanti and Naresh are talking to Neville right now, so he should be down soon to rescue you. Just bear in mind what we said."

Ron started to shout as they turned to leave. Sophie waved her wand at him and a bright red gag stuffed itself into his mouth. "We'll leave your wand on the office desk," she said as they sauntered unhurriedly away.

Ron fumed as he struggled against his bonds. Crazy kids! They'd be so sorry when he caught up with them! Tying him up and taking his wand. He knew it was close to the living area, but still – who knew when one of the more dangerous inhabitants of the reserve might wander past? And he didn't have his cloak. He was getting cold. Fortunately he didn't have long to wait.

Neville fairly sprinted down the path and Ron felt some of his annoyance fade as he took in the look of relief that crossed Neville's face when he saw that Ron was still in one piece. Neville waved his wand and the gag flew out of Ron's mouth. He winced, obviously waiting for Ron to explode. Ron felt the last of the annoyance drain out of him at the reaction.

"I'm not going to shout, Neville," he said. "Just untie me, would you?"

Neville's face took on a look of great resolution. "Wait, there's something I've got to say first."

Ron bit back a shout of frustration and nodded for him to continue. Neville took a deep breath. "I have been distracted by you over the last few weeks, and if you've been doing it on purpose, as Basanti and Naresh tell me, then that's really unfair. Do you want me, Ron, or is it all a game?"

Neville's face was completely honest and open as he waited for Ron's answer, and Ron felt his heart melt. He cleared his throat. "Well, it did start as a bit of a game, but I pretty quickly realised that you are very attractive…." His voice trailed off and he could feel himself start to blush.

Neville smiled widely. "And what do you intend to do about that?" he asked.

Ron considered. What on earth did he want? He hadn't been lying about Neville's attractiveness, but he wasn't sure that he wanted anything serious either. Neville must have seen the indecision in his face.

"Don't fret, Ron. I'll let you go and we'll see what happens, hmm? Just don't put me in the position of having a heart to heart with Basanti and Naresh again."

"You weren't held at wandpoint by two determined witches and hexed!" protested Ron.

"No, but I was given a cup of tea and had my hand held soothingly by Naresh as they talked, with distressing frankness, about the pros and cons of me having sex with you." Neville waved his wand and the ropes vanished. Ron stumbled forwards and had to be caught before he fell face first in the leaf litter.

"Really? I guess I did get off lightly then." Ron wrapped his arm around Neville's shoulders and squeezed gently. "Come on, let's go back before they send out a search party. I don't want to get hexed again."

….

Despite the slightly chilly atmosphere at dinner, everything went well for the rest of the evening. Ron retrieved his wand and stroked it consideringly whenever he looked at Sophie and Calliope. Naresh had handed him a cup of tea with a sympathetic smile, and Basanti had made some of the sweets he enjoyed so much. Ron knew he should feel vaguely insulted, but they were very nice sweets. He decided to shelve his pique and enjoy the evening.

Once Naresh saw that Ron wasn't going to explode everywhere, he asked him a few questions about magical energy and geothermal activity that ended in a group discussion of wild magic. Ron glanced at Neville, seeing his face alight with curiousity. He looked away quickly.

….

Life settled down into a steady routine. Neville's project was going well, and he was culturing seedlings for their own replanting efforts that were far superior to the ones Ron could grow. Sophie was helping him, and Ron felt confident that she'd be able to take over from him when he left. Sophie and Calliope had decided to stay for a second year. Sophie loved the herbology side of it, and Calliope was learning some unusual applications of her woodwrighting. Basanti was becoming quite adept with the animals, having a tender touch and a way of crooning to them in Urdu that soothed them far better than Ron's attempts ever did. Naresh was becoming a champion warder, and Ron was very proud of him. Things were going swimmingly, and if Ron missed teasing Neville, he didn't let on. Nor did Neville. They still flirted occasionally, under the watchful eye of Sophie, and Basanti's indulgent smile, but it appeared that they were back to being friends.

Except Ron hadn't been lying. Neville was getting more attractive to him by the day. He caught himself watching Neville at the oddest times, knowing that the other man wasn't deliberately being provocative. He restrained himself from saying or doing anything, still unsure if he wanted more than casual flirtation.

Neville put down his book and sighed. "Ron?"

"Mmm?" Ron looked up from his own book. They were in their rooms, the younger couples having taken over the recreation area for dancing tonight.

"How big is Wild Magic?" Ron looked nonplussed, so Neville tried again, "I mean, there's this reserve, which appears to be a conservation project; what is the rest of Wild Magic like?"

"Well. Hmm. The International Confederation of Warlocks co-ordinates various Wild Magic projects. There are ten reserves in total I think, all with a different focus. There's one in New Zealand, for example, that covers a large chunk of the southern mountains and focuses on several magical springs and bird species. That's quite small: just a team leader and one assistant, but they aren't as isolated as us. The one in Australia is huge, and focuses on the partnership with the local Aboriginal magical people and the maintenance of the Dreamtime there. Other than the reserves, individuals and teams also work on local projects. Irma Pince – remember her? – is working on a long-term ley line project based at Hogwarts. There's a teacher in Finland who works in faerie magic."

Neville cut in as Ron paused for breath. "It's quite big, then."

"Definitely."

Neville smiled and Ron turned back to his book. A sudden shriek of laughter from the recreation centre, louder than the others, broke his concentration. The music from the gramophone carried to their rooms. Neville looked up as Ron sighed.

"What's wrong?" he asked.

"Nothing. Just feeling a bit restless. It's been raining and I haven't been able to get out as much."

"You could have come down to the greenhouses."

"Yeah, I guess," Ron replied. Their eyes met and Ron felt an unmistakable heat in his belly. It would seem his body was in no doubt as to what he wanted. Neville's eyes widened and his sudden flush told Ron that he was aware of it too. Caution suddenly seemed like a pointless thing and Ron pushed himself out of his chair. Neville looked up at him inquiringly.

"Dance with me?" Ron asked, stretching out one hand. Neville hesitated. "Come on, I know I'm not Harry, but I can still dance." His smile was wolfish, and he hoped it hid how fast his heart was beating.

Neville reached out and took Ron's hand, allowing him to tug him from the chair. "I know you're not Harry," he murmured, as Ron swept him into a slow dance. He looked up at him and smiled softly. "I'd rather dance with you, anyway."

Ron could hear his mind screaming at him to slow down, but he bent his head anyway and kissed Neville gently. They stopped moving and Neville's hands fluttered up to hold Ron's shoulder and trace his jaw. Ron anchored one hand in Neville's hair and deepened the kiss. Their tongues met gently in the most delicate and tentative of kisses. Ron could feel the tension thrumming through Neville. He pulled back slightly. "Do you want me to stop?" he asked.

"Just- just go slowly. I've never-" Neville swallowed and blushed bright red. Ron eased one hand across Neville's neck.

"We can go as slowly as you like," he replied.

&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;

Ron spent the next few days ascertaining exactly what "I've never" meant in Neville-speak. It required some awkward questions, some shrewd deductions, and lots of sympathetic smiles from Naresh and Basanti, who practically force-fed him some relaxing Indian tea whenever they saw him. It did relax him, though. Basanti had taken to chatting to him in Urdu in that soothing voice as she pressed plates of sweets into his hands. He didn't dare ask what sort of animal she thought he was. The sweets were rather nice, and she had a lovely way of patting his hair. When he found himself wanting to purr, he knew it was time to get out.

Ron wandered down to the greenhouses. Neville was stripped to the waist, shovelling some truly vile smelling fertilizer from a wheelbarrow into a bed and digging it in. Maybe he had asked Sophie to tell him where the previous long drop had been. Ron breathed through his mouth and admired the view instead. Neville was gorgeous, and Ron could have looked all day. The muscles in his back shifted smoothly with each shovelful, and sweat was beading all over his shoulders. Ron felt an insistent pressure building in his groin.

"Move it, boss," growled Sophie impatiently from behind him. Jumping slightly, Ron moved out of the way. Neville startled badly and dropped his shovel, spinning round to stare at Ron with wide eyes. Sophie looked from one to another and smirked. "I'll just take this tray out the back. Way, way out the back. Far away out the back. And leave you two alone." She disappeared through the greenhouse into the adjoining one.

Ron narrowed his eyes. It must be about time for dragon dung duty. It would do Sophie good to get stuck with that tomorrow. See her smirk after a day hefting that around. He turned to Neville with a smile. "Want to go up to the thermal area?" he asked.

Neville hesitated, but nodded. "I need to clean up."

"Go ahead. I'll be in the office. I have some paperwork to do." He grinned to himself as he headed for the office. One of the few paperwork items he enjoyed was in front of him – inflicting dragon dung duty on Sophie.

&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;

There must be a way he could make a move on Neville without being a perv, mused Ron, stripping his clothes off efficiently. He was completely lost in his thoughts and failed to notice the hungry look in Neville's eye as each new expanse of skin was laid bare. Neville licked his lips as Ron's shirt hit the grass, exposing his chest. Ron didn't notice. He wondered if an offer of a foot massage would be too forward. Neville's eyes devoured him as Ron walked to the edge of the pool and tested it with a toe. Ron slipped into the pool, wondering if a game of strip-chess would be too juvenile.

"What attracted you to wild magic?" asked Neville, breaking into his musings as they reclined in a beautifully hot pool just the right size and depth for two.

Ron quickly refocused on the man in front of him. "Oh, its sheer variety, I think. I love the idea of magic that exists quite separate from human endeavour. Transfiguration, for example, only exists because humans find it useful. The stuff we do here – all wild magic – would still exist tomorrow if humans disappeared. But so few wizards know anything about it."

"You're very passionate."

"Want a demonstration?" asked Ron, dropping his voice lasciviously. Recollecting himself and his promise to take things slowly, Ron added, "If you want one, of course."

Neville slid closer in the hot water. "Ron. Stop. I want you. I want you to be yourself. Going slowly doesn't mean we have a timetable."

Ron slid one arm around Neville's shoulders and hugged him close. "I know. It's just. Well. I want you to take your time and be comfortable."

"I am. I will be."

Ron took a deep breath and looked away. Neville rested a hand on his knee. "Hey. This is about more than just right now, isn't it?"

"Well. Yeah. When I came out – and yes, I'm totally fine with it now, and one day my mother will forgive me for dashing her dreams of grandkids from every child – I was a bit mixed up. I went out to Muggle clubs and bars for queers. I got into some things too far, too fast. I don't want it to be like that for you."

"Ron. Look at me." When Ron turned his head again, reluctantly and with a strained look, Neville smiled and ran a wet fingertip down his jaw. "It won't be too far or too fast, because we're us. We're not mixed up and hurt and confused. Frustrated as hell, maybe, but not confused."

"Are you sure?" asked Ron, looking directly at Neville.

"Yes," answered Neville simply.

Ron leaned his head down and tightened his arm around Neville's shoulders to bring him closer. Neville slid one hand up to cup the back of Ron's neck and their lips met in the softest whisper of a kiss. Neville breathed out shakily and got a firmer grasp on Ron's neck, drawing him in further and sliding his tongue along Ron's lips. Ron's mouth opened under his and their tongues met in a beautiful, languid flirtation. Ron moaned gently into Neville's mouth and slid his other arm around Neville. Some awkward manoeuvring and Neville was straddling Ron's lap, groins pressed together and slick, wet chests rubbing. Tilting his head back, Neville groaned. Ron licked a trail over his neck and throat, enjoying the heat of the soft, wet skin under his fingers. Neville's fingers tangled into Ron's thick, wet hair and dragged his face back up for another kiss. Drowning in the sensation, Ron felt Neville's hands spread out across his shoulders, rubbing callused palms over the skin. Ron leaned back and pulled Neville closer, bringing their cocks into contact. Gasping, Ron's hands dropped impatiently to Neville's arse and Neville's fingers curled hard into Ron's shoulders.

"Stop!" gasped Ron. Neville moaned and held on, rocking their bodies together. "Neville, please, want to- in a bed."

Neville drew a shuddering breath and stilled, opening his eyes and looking at Ron with such heat that he nearly reconsidered. Ron whimpered as Neville traced one fingertip from collarbone down, though a maze of freckles, detouring to rub over one wet and shiny nipple before running under the water to stroke over his stomach.

"Neville…" gasped Ron, clutching his fingers over Neville's roaming hand.

"If you want to do this in a bed, we'd better go now," choked Neville, pulling away. They climbed out of the pool and dried themselves. Ron watched Neville pull a clean shirt over his head as Ron buttoned his jeans. As that tousled head emerged, Ron leaned forward and kissed his neck. Neville grasped Ron's hips and tilted his head back for better access. One of Neville's hands stole across Ron's arse. Closing his eyes and gasping with pleasure, Ron kissed and nibbled Neville's neck with more fervour. Eventually, Ron pushed away.

"Bad idea. Don't want to stop."

"Why stop? It'd be nice, here, in the sunset."

"Really?"

"Yes." Neville pulled Ron back into his arms and rocked against him. Ron snaked his arms around Neville and drew him into a bruising kiss. Neville's fingers dropped to Ron's jeans and struggled to unbutton them. Ron drew away.

"Strip," he ordered, voice guttural. Neville complied, fixing his eyes on Ron as Ron slid his jeans back down. Neville had never noticed that Ron went commando before and found the idea thrilling. Smiling a promise, Ron drew Neville closer so their bodies touched from head to foot. He heard Neville's indrawn breath and felt him nestle closer. "What would you like to do?" he asked quietly. Neville looked up enquiringly. "It's your first time," explained Ron, "We should do what you want to do."

Neville swallowed hard and thought back to the myriad fantasies he'd had in the past few weeks. "I want you to suck me," he said at last.

"Oh, Neville, that will be a pleasure. Anything else?" Neville shook his head, but there was obviously more. Ron smiled. "Anything you want will be fine. Tell me," he encouraged.

"I want to fuck you," he said finally, in the smallest whisper. Ron smiled and rubbed his back.

"That will be my pleasure," he said. They kissed again, lips rasping over each other and tongues rubbing together. Ron gently nibbled Neville's lower lip and slid his hands warmly down Neville's back. Neville's fingers traced a path down Ron's arms, trailing over scars and rubbing over freckles before sliding daringly down Ron's back to cup his arse. Ron groaned and rocked forward, bringing their cocks together. Ron sighed at the first velvety touch together. Neville grasped Ron's arse harder and ground into him. Plundering Neville's mouth, Ron encouraged Neville to rock harder against him. Neville gasped and pulled away.

Ron dropped to his knees in front of Neville and looked up at him for permission. Neville looked down at Ron's lips so temptingly close to his aching cock and nodded. The first brush of his lips over the sensitive head was even better than Neville could have dreamed, judging by the groan he let out and the way his fingers clenched tightly on Ron's shoulders. Ron licked his lips and dragged his tongue over the head before slowly edging the entire thing into his mouth. Neville groaned and Ron hummed in agreement around his mouthful. Ron drowned in the smell and taste and feel of Neville all around him, letting his tongue swirl round the head and his fingers drift up to tease Neville's balls. He could hear the tiny sounds Neville was making and they drove him wild. He sucked hard, taking Neville's entire cock into his mouth and swallowing around it. Neville groaned and thrust into his mouth. Ron moaned in response and Neville did it again. Ron could feel the trembling start in Neville's legs and knew he was close. Bracing one arm around his hips to hold him up if he fell, Ron increased his pace, bobbing his head in time with Neville's thrusts.

Ron could feel the light breeze drifting over his exposed body and shivered slightly, goose bumps rising on his arms and shoulders. He nestled closer to Neville, revelling in the heat they were generating. He felt the faint tugs on his shoulders and heard Neville's stammered warnings, but held on, mouth working to bring on an amazing orgasm. Neville howled and his whole body shook. His hands tightened painfully in Ron's hair, hips thrusting wildly as he came.

Ron gently eased Neville down to the grass and curled next to him, running his hands soothingly over his body until he stopped shaking. Neville laughed shakily and ran his own hand down Ron's body. "That was nice," he said. Ron hummed in agreement, feeling Neville's fingers ghosting over his rock hard cock. "I want to do it to you."

Ron flung his arms out. "I'm all yours. Do whatever you want with me," he said. Neville started at his collarbones, tracing them with his tongue before dropping down to lick and suck and nibble one nipple.

"Do you know how these nipples have been tempting me?" he asked, rubbing one with his thumb. Ron shook his head. "Every time you're wet, water beads around them and runs over them." He bent his head to taste them again and Ron let out his breath in a shuddering sigh. It felt wonderful. Neville's tongue traced over his stomach and down his thighs as Neville's hand continued ghosting those soft little strokes over Ron's cock. Ron whimpered. He was so close, and the first touch of Neville's warm, soft lips to his cock nearly sent him over the edge. Fighting the urge to grasp Neville by the hair and thrust up into his mouth, Ron breathed deeply and tried to relax. Neville took him into his mouth tentatively and Ron groaned. His eyes looked down at Neville's head then up at the rose edged clouds staining the sky. Neville's mouth grew bolder, and Ron groaned deep in his throat.

Neville lifted his head, letting his hand work over Ron's erection instead. "You taste every bit as good as I imagined," he husked. "I've dreamt of this. Your body under mine, being free to taste and touch and run my fingers over every delectable inch. I've wanted to lick those little nests of freckles." Ron gave a strangled groan and Neville's hand moved faster, more firmly. "I've wanted to lie underneath you and feel your strong arms pinning me to the bed. I've wanted to fuck you, to bend you over any available flat surface, and for you to do the same to me." Ron groaned once more and came in a sudden, heart stopping lurch, spilling all over Neville's fingers. Neville smiled and lifted one to his lips to lick it clean. Ron moaned helplessly at the sight and wished he could come all over again at the look of delight and satisfaction on Neville's face. Neville fumbled for his wand and waved it in a gentle cleansing charm before lying back next to Ron and pillowing his head on Ron's shoulder, both looking up at the darkening sky.

Ron stirred at last and dropped a gentle kiss on Neville's hair. "Was it good?" he asked.

"It was better than good," sighed Neville. "We need to go home, have some dinner, and then I believe we have a date for me to fuck you."

"We do indeed," Ron laughed, drawing away and looking for their clothes. He tossed Neville his jeans and stood up. He found his and pulled them on. Neville wrapped his arms around Ron and nuzzled into his chest.

"Thank you," he said.

Ron's arms came round Neville and held him tight. "Wait until tomorrow and thank me then," he growled. Neville laughed and let him go. His stomach rumbled. "Come on then," Ron said.

Fully dressed, they headed down the hillside, walking briskly to get back for their dinner. As they came within earshot of the living quarters and heard the gales of laughter coming from it, Ron said, thoughtfully, "Any smirks from those damn kids and I'll have them all on dragon dung duty tomorrow."

"What about me?" asked Neville.

"Tomorrow, you will be working on a special project with the team leader that will require your full attention and complete co-operation."

Neville caught sight of four faces pressed up against the glass as the people in the hall spotted the two returning. He sighed. "You'd better go and make the changes to the roster now," he said, "because I can feel the smirking from here."

"Oh, they won't be smirking after they've finished with the dragon dung," said Ron in satisfaction. "It'll be me smirking tomorrow night."


End file.
